


Six Years

by ami_ven



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 10:48:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The punishment for violating the Most Sacred Temple was six years— but not in prison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six Years

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the WriterVerse community on LJ.

On P9X-82, the punishment for violating the Most Sacred Temple, which had actually been a small auxiliary Ancient weather station, was six years. And since Rodney had been the one who dismantled part of the control crystal panel, he was the one they wanted to see punished.

John tried to argue, that it had been a misunderstanding, that the Sacred Ancestors actually liked it when Rodney fixed their temples, that Rodney was _needed_ on their world—

“You misunderstand,” said the Judge, a very old woman who had given them no other name. “We do not incarcerate the guilty. What purpose would that serve? The burden would then fall to us to feed them, clothe them, defend them from the Wraith. No, it is better that they are returned to where they may be of some use.”

John frowned. “But you said the punishment was six years.”

“So it is. Six years of Dr. McKay’s memories will be taken as recompense.”

“His _memories_ —” John began, but the doors to the council chamber opened, admitting three guards escorting a scowling Rodney.

“It has been explained to him,” said the Judge. “You may have time to speak. Your words will not be heard outside this chamber.”

One of the guards gave Rodney a shove, and John only just caught him before he fell. “You okay?” John asked, leaving his hands on Rodney’s shoulders.

“Physically, I’m fine. Emotionally… not so good. Sheppard, they told me—”

“I know,” John interrupted, quietly. “Six years.”

“It’s inhumane!” Rodney yelled. “Putting aside the fact that people who worship the Ancients as gods want to use a ten thousand-year-old device they don’t understand _on my brain_ — and only for a moment, because that’s really an important point— what kind of punishment is this? Memories are… are who we are, what makes us, _us_. Taking that away is… it’s horrible.”

“Yeah,” John agreed.

“I mean, six years ago, I was a jerk. No, don’t say it, Sheppard, you didn’t know me then. I’m still arrogant and irritable and bad with people, but trust me when I say that I used to be much, much worse. I’ve learned so much since then.”

John unconsciously tightened his grip on Rodney’s shoulders. “Of course you have. You’re the smartest man in two galaxies.”

“No— well, yes, I am, but— I meant, I’ve learned things about people, about how to be a _friend_ , and if… when they do this, I’m going to lose all that.”

“So we’ll get you out,” said John. “There are only a few guards, it’s not too far to the ‘gate—”

“ _No_ ,” said Rodney, both hands coming up to grab John’s wrists. “Not without any weapons or at the very least not without Teyla and Ronon.”

“Rodney—”

“They’ll kill you, John. Then they’ll do this to me anyway and I’ll never have known who you are, and you can’t— you can’t do that to me, John.”

“Rodney—”

There were footsteps in the hall, and Rodney glanced at the doors before turning back to John, looking a little desperate. “Look,” he said. “We’re friends, right?”

“Of course we are,” John growled. “ _Rodney_ —” 

“And I know it must have been hard getting to like me before, learning to put up with me, but… this is kind of like a last request, right? So, after, could you… would you try to be my friend again?”

John felt something inside him snap. “God, Rodney, _no_ ,” he said, pulling the other man into a desperate hug. Rodney, misunderstanding, tried to pull away, but John just held on tighter. “It’s easy to be your friend, Rodney. It’s so damn easy that sometimes I can barely remember what it was like before I met you.”

That wasn’t entirely accurate, but John didn’t have the words to explain how his life had been fading, leeched of color, the dark sea of uniforms, the endless pale desert, the shock of white snow, until Rodney had appeared with his blue eyes and his orange jacket and given John the stars.

Rodney twisted his hands into the fabric of his jacket. “John—”

The chamber door opened. “It is time,” said the Judge.

Rodney tried to pull away again, but John still didn’t let go. “Take me, too,” John said, over Rodney’s shoulder. “I was in command, so I get part of the blame. That makes it three years for each of us.”

“John…” Rodney said again, but the colonel didn’t move.

The Judge arched an eyebrow at them. “The punishment cannot be shared, Colonel Sheppard.”

“Then give me all of it,” said John. 

“ _No_ ,” said Rodney. He put his hands on John’s chest and shoved, making him let go, but immediately grabbed the front of John’s jacket, hauling him closer again.

“No,” he repeated. “Don’t you dare do this to me, you self-sacrificing bastard. For once, _I_ get to do something stupidly noble and _you_ just get to watch.”

“Rodney—”

“Did you mean it, John?”

“What…?” John began, but he had meant every word. “Yeah, Rodney. I meant it.”

“Good.” Rodney tightened his grip on John’s jacket, knuckles going white. For one dizzying moment, John thought he would kiss him, but Rodney let go abruptly, and turned on his heel to face the guards. “All right, I’m ready.”

“Rodney, wait!” said John, but the doors shut behind them, and he was gone. John whirled on the Judge. “What the hell kind of justice is this?”

She didn’t react to his anger, just smoothed a wrinkle on her gown and said calmly, “What will become of Dr. McKay when you are returned to your world?”

“We’ll help him get his memories back, that’s what,” said John. He struggled to at least stay civil, because they hadn’t returned anybody anywhere yet. “Maybe our doctors can find a way to reverse your machine.”

“Perhaps,” she allowed. “You would waste such resources on one man?”

“Dr. McKay is our chief scientist and a valuable member of my team,” John snapped. “But more importantly, he’s our _friend_ and everyone on At— on our world will do their best to help him remember again.”

“And you, Colonel Sheppard?” asked the Judge, mildly.

“I’d do anything,” said John. “Anything.”

“Even if the memory removal is permanent?” she pressed. “If those years remain lost to him?”

“Then he’ll make new memories,” said John. “We don’t abandon our people, for any reason.”

The Judge smiled. “That is precisely what I hoped you would say, colonel.”

“What?” said John. The council chamber doors creaked open and he whirled, to see Rodney pause in the doorway. He started forward, but made himself stop short. “Rodney?”

Rodney closed the space between them in three big strides, grabbing the front of John’s jacket like he’d done only moments before and pulling him in for a fierce kiss. When they broke for air, he huffed a laugh and rested his forehead against John’s. “Sorry. I wanted to do that before, but it didn’t seem fair.”

“Only apologize if you plan not to do that again,” said John, then his brain finally caught up with him. “Wait. You’re not— They didn’t—”

“I don’t make a habit of kissing strangers, colonel,” Rodney said, dryly, and so much like himself that John just had to kiss him again.

“Doctor, colonel,” said the Judge, and they sprang apart, though both stayed well within the other’s reach. “I must apologize for this test. But we had to know your true characters if our peoples were to be friends.”

“Test?” John repeated. “That was a dirty trick.”

She smiled. “Perhaps. And, yet, I think you have found some merit in it.”

“Wait,” said Rodney. “You don’t even have a memory eraser, do you?”

“We do not,” the Judge confirmed. “Nor have we heard of such a device.”

“And did we pass your test?” John asked. 

“Yes, quite marvelously. Our leaders would meet with yours, to negotiate an official friendship between us. Will you take word to them?”

John nodded. “We’ll pass it along. And…” he glanced sideways at Rodney, who smiled. “Thanks.”

THE END


End file.
